


in jimmy's bar

by KQfucker69



Series: Garbage [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: English? I don't know her., M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, a lil sumn short and horny bc god im Hot for Hank, i hope u can feel my thirst throughout this entire fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 19:38:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15177860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KQfucker69/pseuds/KQfucker69
Summary: Connor's on his knees making Hank want to kneel, too.Hallelujah.





	in jimmy's bar

**Author's Note:**

> horny connor bc everyone loves the slutty android sent by Cyberlife amirite
> 
> background music: #1 Crush - Garbage
> 
> inspired totally by this [art](https://twitter.com/orgo_ryuga/status/1014867058578763776?s=21) on twitter by @orgo_ryuga

Jimmy's bar.

Grey, dim, humid, muted, hazy. Unsavoury patrons largely minding their own business. Drinking, chatting, blanking out.

The clinking of glasses, scraping of chairs. Someone scratches at their head under a sweaty cap. Another opens the door for a breath of fresh air. Wind blows in, specks of rain following.

"Shut the fuckin' door, you're letting the draft in!"

A middle finger is given, a fight about to start. Jimmy intervenes. This is a bar for everyone.

"Just have a good time, all right? Enjoy your drinks." Jimmy makes another for the two of them. "On the house."

The drinks are taken quietly. Shadowed faces turn away from the earlier commotion. Back to minding their own business.

A rough cough fills the air. "Bathroom break."

The scrape of a chair, cards thrown onto the table in the middle of the game. The man walks through the doorless doorway.

In the bathroom, on the wall, a dirty mirror hangs. Years of uncleaned grime making permanent stains on the surface. Under it, a slimy sink full of alcoholic spit and mucus trails.

Past that, a cubicle door left ajar. Muffled noises coming from within. He doesn't quite hear, buzzed. Pushes at the door slightly. Pauses.

Behind the graffitied door, a couple engrossed with each other. A messy grey-haired man at the neck of a pretty, younger one.

He looks closer, silent. It's an android.

_What the hell._

It sees him, handsome jaw upturned at an angle. Winks knowingly at him as it lets out a moan when its partner moves his mouth to another spot.

The man leaves, disturbed, bathroom break be fucked.

"Something wrong?" Hank stops, detaching his lips from Connor's throat.

Connor's eyes shift from the door back to him. "No. Kiss me."

Hank kisses him. Cups his hand behind Connor's nape, pressing in.

In the background, the sound of water dripping. Rhythmic. Their breathing, irregular.

Panting when they part, Connor's hands travel down. Fingers feel around, hooking over and pulling at Hank's pants.

Hank's own hands, large and paw-like, groping. Connor's so lean. So smooth. It's driving him wild. He doesn't know where to start, to touch.

But first, the jacket must go. They wrestle with it, pulling it off Connor's body. Dropping it to the filthy floor. Whatever.

Even under the shitty lighting, Connor looks great. Hank tells him so, palms smoothing over the android's torso, over his tight white dress shirt.

Connor smiles, shadows cutting at the angles of his face mysteriously. Feels good to be praised. "More," he murmurs into Hank's shoulder, pulling the man into a semi-hug. Slips one hand up the back of Hank's shirt and the other down the front of Hank's pants.

"Why you hangin' with someone like me? You like being debauched by dirty old men?" Hank presses heavily against him, against the wall, rutting languidly.

Connor groans at the pressure. "Violate me."

"You can't take me at my worst," Hank grins against his mouth, perfect pink lips. Licks at Connor's Cupid's bow.

"Try me," Connor lets him in. Tastes the strong alcohol that Hank drinks like water. He shivers.

Fucking his tongue into Connor's mouth, Hank pulls down Connor's pants. Rough, desperate. Any damage can be repaired later, tomorrow, never. It doesn't matter right now.

Calloused hands ruck up Connor's always-perfectly ironed shirt, its hem snapping away from the clips of his shirt stays. The straps fall loose.

Hank glances down. Connor's naked thighs exposed, each circled by a band of black elastic garters. Nothing else above them, only socks below. He groans lowly at the sight.

Snakes rough fingers under Connor's shirt, snaking around his tight waist, touching, feeling cool smooth skin, hairless. Trails his hands down to touch Connor in between the legs.

"No." Connor pushes his hands away, getting down on his knees. Kneels on his jacket.

Making deft work of Hank's pants, he shoves them down. Greedy, he reaches through the flap of his boxers. Takes out Hank's thick cock, laves his wet tongue along its length.

"God," Hank grits out. Hands against the wall now that Connor's all the way down there. He's got to keep himself standing somehow.

Connor looks up at him, hint of a smile gracing his lips before he opens them wide and sticks Hank in between them.

They've done this before in places less filthy. This is more fun.

It's dirty. It doesn't smell the best in here. It's dark. They can't quite see each other clearly. But feeling – they can feel each other perfectly.

Thank God Connor doesn't have a gag reflex. Oh, but he can swallow.

Hank's knees nearly buckle, stiff joints locking up at the zap of pleasure, arousal, all that good stuff. He sweats under his shirt and jacket.

Connor opens wider, slides Hank out. Gazes at his cock with his soft brown eyes like it's the best treat he's ever had. Leans in, inhales the musk, licks at the fat head.

From above, Hank curses loudly, throws his head back, unkempt hair shifting.

He's close. He just needs a little more.

Swallowing Hank's cock down again, Connor presses his tongue against the underside insistently. Gives a suggestion of teeth.

And it's all Hank needs. He fucks roughly into Connor's throat once, twice. Cums hard, four big spurts. His muscles contract, knees buckling for real this time.

Connor holds him up easily, taking it all down with a smile. Smacks his lips after Hank slips out, softening.

Hank pants heavily. Curses again. Steps back and stuffs himself back into his pants, leaning against the wall behind him. Connor stands, kisses him once more before redressing himself.

"Home," Hank says, the taste of himself lingering on his tongue, opening the door fully and pushing Connor all the way out of Jimmy's bar. Some people notice them, none care.

The night's still young. Connor's still untouched. They have work to do in bed.

All they leave behind after them is Connor's jacket, crumpled on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> im so Hot for Hank please god someone write more hank x reader porn i have a great Need
> 
> Edit: HIIIIII FIND ME ON TWITTA @ hornyforhank i wanna make friends / i'll also reply to comments when i wake up in a few days or months or something bc Boi life has been something this past week 
> 
> <3


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